


Not All Curses Are Curses

by H3avydirtysoul



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Androids (Detroit: Become Human), Anal Sex, Angst, Biting, Blood Drinking, College Student Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor's not really a vampire, Gay Sex, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Slow Burn, Vampire Turning, Vampires, connor's pov, kind of, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17173427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H3avydirtysoul/pseuds/H3avydirtysoul
Summary: Years had passed since the accident that had changed Connor. Not once had that scar on his wrist bothered him. So why did it start now? And who is that man who makes Connor feel things in a way he's never felt before?Oh, North knows the one."Are you ever going to wipe the drool off your chin or what?"I snapped my head at her, feeling my face heaten at the remark."I absolutely did not drool. Shut up.""He's gay too, you know?"I clenched my jaw."And the question?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.Tag along and find out





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all had a great Xmas.  
> This was written listening to Afraid by The Neighbourhood and Beautiful Crime by Tamer. I recommend.  
> Enjoy.

Imagine a morning in late November. The rain was falling non-stop. The sound of the rain drops falling on the roof awoke me. I kept my eyes shut at first, but then I opened them slowly, giving them time to get used to the light that penetrated the room. It was not the golden sunlight, but the traces of it that somehow managed to escape through the clouds.

I sat on the bed and stared at the clock. I had awaken ten minutes earlier. 

_ Please, no. _

I let myself fall back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling, yawning. 

_ I hate rain. _

To be honest, the only good thing about rain is the sound of it. And sometimes the smell of it. I love the smell of wet leaves and earth. The water was dripping down the somewhat misted-up window. Every second the clock ticked, my willingness to jump out of bed dropped critically. It was a cold, rainy – not to mention foggy – day and that was the worst invitation to get someone out of bed in the morning. Especially if you have to go out onto the street and the only thing you’ll smell is the smoggy air of a big city. That’s all you get on a rainy day in the city I live in.

My ten minutes were already up when I got into the quick morning shower that lasted five minutes. Another five minutes and I found myself grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting on the sofa, watching the morning news before going to college. 

_ Same old, same old.  _

Enjoying my coffee, I quickly zapped through the channels, hoping to find something that would differ from war and economic crisis. Apparently there was a serial killer on the loose in Detroit. That was a change. Not a nice one, but still a change. I finished my coffee and let my head fall back, hitting the back of the couch. I checked my watch and grunted when I saw it was about time I left for morning classes. I turned the TV off and grabbed my backpack and keys. I wouldn't be back until 8.30pm or so. I worked a part-job after classes at a coffee shop near campus. It was usually very busy during the night, since students and working adults alike went there for a hot chocolate or a coffee after a day of work. Sometimes, so did I.

* * *

College could get boring sometimes. I loved studying, granted, but there were times when I caught myself thinking I'd rather be somewhere else, doing something else. I would glance at my watch more than twice every ten minutes and it got on my friends' nerves.

"Connor, would you fucking stop doing that? You're not really all that closer to leaving than you were the last time you checked the time. You're starting to piss me off for real." North, one of my friends, told me, hitting my arm.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, focusing on what Mr. Allen was saying. He was the criminology professor and it was actually my favorite subject, but I was feeling antsy for some reason. My forearm was itching. And I scratched over my shirt, absent-mindedly. But it kept on itching, so I scratched some more, until I felt it burn. I pulled my sleeve up and found my skin was all red, naturally. It was my scar, apparently. I touched it with the tip of my fingers, feeling it. I bit my lip and applied some pressure, trying to ease the discomfort there. I furrowed my eyebrows and took a good look at the now faded scar. It was years old, why was it bothering me like this? 

I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I wasn't really paying attention to anything being said at the moment. I felt Simon elbow discreetly nudge my arm and I looked up to him, finding him focused on the front of the classroom, as if he hadn't just asked for my attention. The whole room was silent and I too looked to the front. Mr. Allen was looking at me. I swallowed hard and hoped I was not going to further embarrass myself. 

"Yes, sir?" I asked, after clearing my throat. 

"Mr. Page, give me an example of a victimless crime, if you're so kind." He asked, giving me a piercing look. 

I was pretty sure typologies of crimes was not what we were discussing, but whatever. 

"Drug sales, Mr. Allen."

He held his gaze for a few more seconds and I hoped he wouldn't ask me anything else. 

"See if you pay attention to anything I'm saying, Page. Next time I won't go so easy on you." He left the warning and kept on lecturing us on the criminal justice system in the US. Go figure. 

* * *

The scar didn't bother me for the rest of the afternoon. Not until the end of my shift at the coffee shop. It was almost eight and I was processing the orders of a group of students I happened to know from college. I took a look around the crowded room. Two men had just walked in and were coming up to the counter. I suddenly felt a searing pain on my wrist that almost made me drop the cup I was holding. It had been years since the accident and it had never bothered me once, not after healing, so why was it bothering me so fucking much that day? It had been long ago, but I would never forget that night. It had been the worst.

**Flashback**

_ I was coming home from a friend's house after spending the afternoon there doing group work for school when it started pouring. His house was close to the woods and, in all honesty, the shortest route to my aunt's house was through the forest, so I made a detour and ran for quite some time, until I ran out of breath. I stopped and tried to catch my breath, bending over, hands on my knees.  _

_ "Fuck... Fucking rain..." I muttered, licking my lips and adjusting my backpack over my shoulder. The earthy scent invaded my nostrils and the water soaked the fibers of my clothes. They were glued to my body, as was my hair, all over my forehead. I ran a hand through the wet strands, pulling it back. Then I started walking again, fast paced. I was never gonna hear the end of it once I arrived home. On top of that, I had ran out of battery on my cell shortly after I left the hous, so I bet I had a dozen of missed calls from my aunt.  _

_ I shouldn't have been too far from reaching the edge of the forest when I heard a whistle. I stopped on my tracks and my head snapped back, looking for whoever had whistled. But it was too dark, the moon either hidden behind the clouds or not shining at all.  _

_ "Who's there?" I asked, feeling kind of stupid since I was seeing no one.  _

_ But when a reply came, I stopped feeling stupid and started feeling scared.  _

_ "A little bit dark to be wondering in the woods, ain't it?"  _

_ I saw three figures approaching me, surrounding me before I could even tell my brain to make my legs move. I swallowed hard and my hand tightened around my backpack strap, my knuckles turning white. The wind blew and I felt my body shiver at the feeling of it caressing my wet skin. The rustle of the leaves would have made me relax under any other circumstance. But not now.  _

_ "I've got nothing worth stealing." I told them, proud of not having sttutered. I felt an arm around my neck, a body pressing against my back, my feet lifting off the ground.  _

_ "That..." The first man said, approaching me, his face now a little bit clearer. "... is up to us to decide." _

_ For a while, all I could remember was pain. My brain is all a black canvas whenever I try to remember that particular moment, no sign of images whatsoever. My body, on the other hand, remembers the pain very, very well. I've got no idea how many times I felt the cold knife going in and out of my body, because at some point I went numb, nearly lifeless in that man's arms. After having fun, he dropped me, without a care in the world and all three of them left. I was left alone, dead on the inside, the iron taste of blood in my mouth, wondering what I had done to deserve dying like this, feeling like shit, feeling stupid for having taken that shortcut. I figured I would pass out and die eventually, rather than having my life slowly stripped away from me, but I was sorely mistaken. I remember hearing steps, faint steps approaching, just the sound of heavy feet sinking in the wet earth and leaves qfter only God knows how long. I tried to ask for help, but no word would reach past my lips and I was already having trouble breathing. I opened my eyes and saw a shadow hovering over me. I tried to make sense of the details, any detail at all, but my vision was blurry.  _

_ And the next thing I knew, I realized.  _

_ I was already dead.  _

_ Pain that excruciating was hell inflicted pain.  _

_ It felt like white hot iron branding my skin, burning its way as it sank deep in my wrist. A mute scream left my mouth and I still haven't figured out the physics of it to ths day, but I swear my dead, damaged body twitched and writhed in pure pain.  _

_ And I've never felt more alive than in that moment.  _

_ I felt something on my mouth when the pain ceased momentarily. It was still there, like fire consuming my flesh, but less intense. I opened my eyes. My vision less blurry now, recovering focus. I saw red. _

_ "Open up." I heard a deep voice say. It was deep and rich, gravelly, and I was glad my ears were functioning. I parted my lips and licked them, still feeling the taste of blood there. I felt something wet against them. I tried to breathe, inhaling deeply through my nose, my nostrils suddenly filled by a strong scent. Whoever that was rubbed something soft and wet against my lips and I felt the wetness invade my mouth, touching my tongue and then what I could only describe as hysteria started. Pure frenzy. I darted my tongue out and licked. Licked once, twice, thrice, until I decided to latch my lips there and suck, my eyes now closed and my eyebrows furrowed as I put effort in draining the warm liquid, that tasted strangely like iron but I chose to ignore that. My body was shaking at this point, but I had forgotten all about the pain. Until there was nothing left. I was suddenly alone, once again, just my shivering mess and the trees around me.  _

**End of Flashback**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank's in it.

"Connor. Connor!"

Disorientation.

That's what I felt when I heard my voice being called in such distress. I blinked twice and looked to my side, finding my manager standing there, a worried look on her face, a hand on my shoulder.

"Y-Yes?" I managed to say, my voice hoarse. My head was killing me at this point.

"What happened? You were just standing there, you okay?" She asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her. "Philip, replace Connor."

Good. I wasn't in any condition of doing anything work related anymore.

"I don't know. I've been feeling antsy all day, but it got better in the afternoon... I just don't know." I shook my head and caressed my forehead.

"Well, it's 8 now, your shift is over, so please go home and have some rest, will you? Enjoy the weekend off and rest. I blame it on the stress. Can't be easy to study and work like you do." She smiled at me and let go of my hand.

"Thank you, Emma. See you on Monday, then." I said and smiled weakly at her, before taking off my apron and going to fetch my things. I grabbed my backpack and walked out through the back door. The rain had stopped at some point and I felt grateful for that. It was a ten-minute walk to my place, but I'd rather get home dry, thanks.

I passed through the front of the coffee shop and took a look. I saw the two men that had walked in before I had that episode. Made a fool of myself, I bet. I clenched my jaw at the thought. One of them, the older man, looked through the window, right at me, I'm not even kidding. Liquid blue eyes that bore into me, making me shiver. I returned the gaze just as intensely, not realizing I was licking my lower lip until I felt the wind brush against them. Fuck. He kept looking at me even while he sipped his coffee, sitting back on his chair, making himself comfortable. And then he broke the eye contact to say something to the other man. My knees were shaking, threatening to give in and make me fall. I felt weak. And thirsty. My mouth was suddenly very, very dry and my eyes were still focusing on that man. I needed him. There was a raw need building inside me and it would do me no good to just stand there like a creep. I swallowed hard and carved my nails in my hands, feeling the awakening pain. I tore my eyes away from him and started walking again, fast steps towards east.

* * *

The weekend was a repeat of Friday, only less of a pain. The nights were hands-down the worst. Every time I closed my eyes, memories from back then appeared in my mind. Memories I fought so hard to forget were now the first thing I'd think about. I didn't want to dream about it, but what choice did I have?

Memories of waking up in the middle of the woods, my shirt was all torn and bloody, without a clue of what had happened at first, my mind failing me, a little bit foggy, just like the weather. I sat on the wet ground, a hand coming up to my chest, touching the holes in my shirt, trying to remember the events that had led me there. And ever so slowly the memories crept in, filling in the blanks. I looked around and saw no sign of my backpack. It all became very real. I wanted to cry. I felt the need to, but I think my body was too disoriented to do that. There were other priorities. The fog didn't let me see much ahead, so I did what I could and walked. Walked until I reached the edge of the forest and the relief I felt when I realized I had walked in the right direction cannot be stressed enough. From there I asked for help, called my aunt, told her I had been robbed, hiding the most important facts. I just wanted to go home and forget what had happened, but I also wanted to understand things. I had been stabbed what? 28 times? Maybe more. But where were those scars? My chest and belly looked flawless. Whole me looked flawless, except for that nasty bite mark on my wrist. I had some stranger bite me, so that was what all that pain had been about. But it was healing surprisingly fast. Guess that nothing should surprise me at that point.

My weekend had been a recollection of my past and I was sick of it. On Sunday, I was feeling better, so I decided to go out. I finished all my college work around 5 pm and called North.

"Hey, Connor, what's up?"

"Hi, North. I'm feeling terrible. Hope you're better than I am."

"I'm good, finished all my college shit yesterday. What happened?"

"I'm feeling a little bit under the weather. Want to go out for coffee?"

"Thought you'd never ask, Page. _Coffee Time_?"

"Yeah, sure. Fine by me. Meet you there in twenty?"

"Perfect. See ya there, then."

And she hung up. I smiled and went to dress something up. The day was surprisingly clean outside, but I still put a scarf around my neck and a jacket on, before leaving and walking to the coffee shop. She was already there when I got there, but it didn't really surprise me. She lived in downtown Detroit, after all.

I approached the table she was sitting at, by the window. Someone else was sitting there with her and I felt the hairs on my neck stand on end. I approached, smiling.

"Oh, I've seen you've ordered for yourself already, huh?" I said, kissing her cheek.

"Took you forever to get here. I ran into a friend of my father." She said, pointing at the man. What I saw, left me speechless. It was that man. He stood up, looking at me with amusement in his eyes. Tall, wide, with gray hair that came down to his neck and a beard that suited him far more than any words could describe. "This is Lieutenant Anderson. He was just telling me that he'll be teaching Investigative Principles next semester. Hank, this is Connor, the friend I told you about."

"Hey, Connor. Pleasure to meet you." Hank said and presented me his hand. I looked at it and shook hands with him.

"Pleasure, Lieutenant Anderson." I said, feeling pure bliss. His grip was firm and I didn't really want to let go. He smelled very good and made me want to do things to him. And I wasn't sure if it was because he was totally my type or something else. "I... I'm going to order my coffee, excuse me."

I reluctantly let go of his hand and went to order my coffee. Philip took my order and we made small talk, him asking if I was feeling better. I lied and grabbed my coffee, going back to North's table. Hank was talking about his work at the DPD. I sat down, sipping my coffee and listening to him talk about his job. Homicide, apparently. My eyes were mainly focused on his face but sometimes would dart to his neck. If I focused hard enough, I could hear a very faint heartbeat, so faint it was barely there. I licked my lips, feeling this huge craving taking over me. I took a swig of my coffee, feeling the scalding drink burn its way down my throat. This was not possible. I knew how that night had affected me, but I had never experienced a craving like this. I never had the need to feed of blood and I wasn't gonna develop one now.

"What about you, Connor? What made you want to be a detective?"

Hearing my name being said in that voice brought me back to reality. I looked up again to meet the man's eyes and licked my lips again, shrugging.

"I suppose it was what felt right. I... Something happened to me when I was younger that made me want to do right by people. I guess that was it for me." I told him, choosing not to disclose too much information about it. He seemed to take the hint because he didn't press any further. North, in turn, did not.

"Wait, what happened?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows and leaning forward, her eyes on me. It made my skin crawl.

"Nothing, I was robbed once. On my way home. I was fifteen or so back then, that's it." I told her before I finished my coffee.

"They ever caught the guy?"

Fuck, I didn't really talk about that. I shook my head.

"No, but I didn't even press charges. It was dark, I saw nothing. It's okay, it was a long time ago." This time I waved a dismissing hand. When I looked up that time, Lieutenant Anderson had his eyes on me and I couldn't read a thing. After a while, he stood.

"Well, I gotta go, but it was nice talking to you both." He said and North stood as well, to shake his hand. I mimicked her and shook hands with him. I felt something in the palm of my hand. I looked at our hands and then up at him and he was smirking at me. He squeezed my hand a bit and then let go. I took my hand to my back pocket and put the piece of paper or whatever that shit was in there.

"Was nice seeing you, Hank."

"Nice seeing ya too, North. And it was nice meeting you, Connor."

He winked at me and then left, hands in the pockets of his black jacket. I watched him disappear when he walked outside. North laughed beside me.

"Are you ever going to wipe the drool off your chin or what?"

I snapped my head at her, feeling my face get hot at the remark.

"I absolutely did not drool. Shut up."

"He's gay too, you know?"

I clenched my jaw.

"And the question?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes.

"If you would be so kind as to remove that stick of your-"

"Okay, sorry. I'm just not feeling wonderful, is all. Can we go for a walk?"

She didn't say anything, just nodded and enlaced my arm with her. I gave her a smile and we both left, going for a walk on the cheerful streets that were starting to light up with Christmas lights. It was just for a few hours, but I managed to forget all the things troubling my mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish all of you a happy 2019, first of all.  
> Second of all, thank you for the kudos! And thank you for reading this new chapter, hope you guys enjoyed.  
> Third of all, I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes, you know the drill.  
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> Also, please help me give this fanfic a better title.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets the answers he was looking for.  
> And then some.

I ended up forgetting the paper I had put on my back pocket. I got home late that night and went straight to bed, where I managed to get a full night sleep. It wasn't until next Thursday, when I was doing my laundry and turning pockets inside out, that I found the tiny piece of paper. It was a phone number.

"Fuck... Holy fuck..." I let out, placing a hand over my mouth. I was only wearing my boxers. I put the piece of paper away and took care of the laundry first. When the machine was working, I grabbed the paper again and went to my room, where I'd left my phone charging. It was a little bit after nine, so I supposed texting wouldn't do any harm. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of the cover against the back of my thighs. I threw caution to the wind and typed a short message.

You: I found this number on a paper in my pocket... Who's this again?

I decided to play dumb. I didn't want to straight off ask if it was Lieutenant Anderson because I wasn't feeling too keen on embarrassing myself. I left the phone there and went to take a shower. While I was there, I took the opportunity to alleviate some of the tension that had been building up for the past couple of days. My last nightmare had been on Tuesday and I had awoken with a massive one in my briefs. I took care of it then and didn't do anything else after. So I allowed myself to do it there, in the shower, as I felt the warm water make my muscles relax. I let out a soft moan as I gripped my cock. I let my mind wander far from there, allowing my head to be filled with the recollection of a particular scent and a very particular set of eyes.

"Ah... Fuck..." I allowed myself to verbalize whatever was going through my head, my eyes closed shut, my hand picking up speed. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me... Harder, please, deeper... Fuck, fuck... Don't stop, don't fucking stop now..." I let out, one hand against the cold tiles, the other working fast, bringing me closer and closer to the edge with each stroke. My voice died in my throat as I was about to fall into the abyss, but I suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes and looked at my hard cock, standing in attention, in desperate need of release, which I decided to deny it. I let out a couple of deep breaths and finished showering, ignoring the aching on my crotch. I knew it would feel much better when I did it later before bed. In fact, what I wanted was someone there to do it with me. I had never been one for one night stands, but lately I'd been thinking it might be time to change that.

With a towel wrapped around my waist, I walked back to my room and jumped on the bed, back facing the mattress. I grabbed my phone and saw I had a message.

_Lieutenant Anderson: I'm gonna pretend you didn't play dumb on me. It's Hank Anderson, Connor._

I held my breath for a couple of seconds there and then actually laughed.

You: Sorry, I didn't want to embarrass myself by assuming you'd given me your number.

_Lieutenant Anderson: Yeah, ya didn't embarrass yourself one bit by playing dumb._

You: Point taken. Why did you give me your number anyway?

_Lieutenant Anderson: I think we both know why._

I arched an eyebrow at that. He surely didn't waste any time beating around the bush.

You: Do we, though?

_Lieutenant Anderson: We both adults here. I trust you do._

I stared at that last message for a moment, trying to decide if I should refuse the implied offer or tag along. My body wanted me to accept and honestly so did my mind. There was no denying the attraction I was feeling. And I felt stupid for it, I'd only really met him once.

You: I'm waiting, then.

Lieutenant Anderson: Not so fast. You've gotta buy me a drink first.

My eyes widened at that last text.

"What a fucker..." I whispered, feeling really pissed off. He'd been making fun of me for past ten minutes. Really funny. "I really hope I entertained him because that won't be happening anymore." I said to my phone, placing it on the fucking nightstand and throwing the towel on the floor, just lying bare like that on the bed, ready to sleep. I wasn't feeling in the mood for anything anymore.

* * *

My life went back to normal after a while. Christmas came and went without me giving a shit about it. I had stopped celebrating Christmas altogether after my parents' death when I was twelve. My aunt had tried to bring the Christmas spirit back to me, but I wasn't really interested in it. So now it was just another holiday to me.

I sometimes saw Lieutenant Anderson at work and he would look at me, but I would just plainly ignore him. I felt the pull whenever he was there, but I ignored that too. I was still pissed off by what he'd said and I would be for a long time.

That was when I realized that a long time for me equaled a month or so, because when January came around and I began having classes with him, it became rather difficult to avoid him. Especially when he seemed to take pleasure in tormenting me by asking me questions like there was nobody else in the room capable of answering them. Well, good thing one of us was relishing the situation because for me it was downright torture. Between wanting to rip his clothes off and sinking my teeth in his neck, there wasn't much going on for me in his classes. It was hard to focus and no amount of effort was doing it for me.

And he seemed to notice that, too.

"Mr. Page, a word, please." He said one night after dismissing the class, in early February.

I looked at him and then at North, who shrugged and left, along with the others. I clicked my pen a few times as an outlet for my anxiety. I approached his desk and remained quiet, waiting for him to tell me whatever it was he was going to say, deep down praying that it was nothing regarding the messages. That had already been too big a humiliation. 

"Connor, I think we need to talk. About you."

I arched an eyebrow at that and folded my arms across my chest.

"Is this about the messages?" Great Connor, way to go. Wants to avoid talking about the messages, brings the messages up. Great job.

He furrowed his eyebrows and walked around his desk, approaching me, his head shaking in denial.

"Not really. I wanna discuss what you're feeling now."

I swallowed hard. My tongue felt like sandpaper and nothing I did seemed to change that.

"I..."

He was fast and I would never be prepared for what he did. He reached for my left wrist and pulled up my sleeve, revealing the faded bite mark there. My eyes widened and I pulled my arm, trying to release my wrist from his grip, but he was as strong as he seemed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked, my voice an octave higher.

"Wanna know how you got this?"

Those words left his mouth and I instantaneously felt the floor disappear from beneath my feet. I felt like I was about to be swallowed. I held my breath and I kept on staring at him like he'd grown two other heads. When I decided to talk, my voice didn't come out. I leaned against his desk and looked down, processing. He was offering to tell me about that mark. My first instinct was to tell him he was lying, that he knew nothing about what had happened, but I knew that wasn't true. For the first time, I could see what really was behind his eyes. And he wasn't lying, so I nodded.

"Do you have time now?" He asked.

"I do. I don't have any more classes.”

"Great, then let's go to my place."

"What? You're not gonna buy me a drink first?" I said, doing nothing to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I had that one stuck in my craw and I had wanted to take it out for quite a while.

He rolled his eyes at that.

"Look, I'm sorry about that one. We'll talk about that too, okay? Now come, the car is in the parking lot."

I followed him and remained quiet during the whole ride. My head was a mess. I wanted to know the truth but at the same time I was afraid of whatever shit that truth was. It was freaking me out and no amount of staring through the car window could distract my mind, apparently. I could only wish for him to not live too far. As it turned out, he lived rather close and we got there in like ten minutes, though it seemed like an eternity to me. He opened the door to his house and let me in first. It was rather nice from what I could gather from a first impression. I would have taken a better look at the decoration and all had I not been so stressed out.

"Sit." He commanded and I did as told, not really wanting to waste any time. I looked at him, expectant. He reached out and grabbed my arm again. This time, I didn't even blink at that. He looked at the mark. "There's no easy way of saying this, so I'll just give it to you."

My whole body tensed up at that because you don't say something like that unless it's bad news. "This was my doing. But I'm not sorry. Not in the slightest."

"Well, and? Are you gonna enlighten me any further or is that all?" I'm not gonna lie and say I was expecting what he'd told me, but that really didn't answer all my questions. I was shocked, of course, but my life was a fucked up mess, so I was not gonna argue with him just now. It sounded incredibly ridiculous, another person would have laughed in his face, but I wasn't anyone else. I was me and I had seen some shit.

He snorted, apparently amused by what I'd said.

"You're a little fucker, ain't ya? Fine. I found you in a fucking forest, all butchered, left for dead, a fucking mess, really, and I decided that I was not gonna leave a fifteen-year-old die like that. So I bit your wrist to turn you, but then I realized I didn't want that either. So I stopped when I had to stop and fed you my blood. I left you somewhere in the middle."

I bit my cheek, eyeing him closely, listening to every word very carefully. Deep down I had known all along that it had to be something along those lines, even if I had always dismissed the idea of being a vampire because I just didn't fit the criteria. But now this...

"So vampires exist and you're one." I stated, matter-of-factly. He seemed surprised, but he tried to hide it. I was getting better at reading him, apparently. I had done a lot of studying on him since the beginning of the semester. Maybe he thought I'd freak out at the news.

"Very much fucking so." Hank said, nodding. "I think you can figure out the rest... How you woke up the next day with no scars to tell the story, I mean. You must have been pretty fucking scared."

"I was. Now... I would like you to tell me why the hell I've been feeling thirsty lately. I've never craved blood before. Ever. And now... It's been driving me crazy, Hank." My teeth were gritted as I said this. He had to know how I was feeling. It must be difficult for him too to have blood cravings.

"This is where it really gets interesting, Connor." He said as he let a feral grin show. I wanted to crush my lips against those so fucking bad. "You see, I transferred here from New York. And full-fledged vampire or not, you changed when I bit you. I am, for all intents and purposes, your creator."

"So... You have some sort of claim on me? Is that why I'm feeling like this now that you're around?" I didn't like the sound of it. What was he planning on doing?

"Fuck no, it's entirely up to you.” He said, eyebrows furrowed. “What I'm saying is that you're craving my blood now that I'm closer to you. As for that sexual tension building up inside you..." He let go of my wrist, which I hadn't realized he was still holding, and moved his hand to between my legs, squeezing my hard-on through the fabric. I shamelessly let out a moan and my head fell back against the couch, my legs spreading automatically for him. "... That's perfectly normal, too."

Those words were all the okay I needed to climb on his lap and latch my lips onto his neck, licking desperately. I felt a soothing hand caress my hair and I rolled my hips, getting all worked up. When the need became too much to bear, I opened my mouth and sank my teeth in his neck, taking swigs of the warm blood pouring into my mouth. Despite the state of bliss I was in, I still managed to feel his hands now making quick work of my belt and fly. I stopped sucking his blood and licked any remnants there, before looking him in the eye. Hank was touching me firmly now, in a slow, yet steady pace. His eyes locked with mine and he smirked knowingly at me, winking.

"Fuck, Hank..." I let out, kissing him violently, feeling his free hand come up to my hair and pulling it hard, our lips breaking apart. He then ran his tongue on the side of my neck and kissed me there.

"You're so delicious... Get rid of those pants, I wanna bury myself inside you."  
That commanding voice sent shivers running down my spine and I immediately did as told. I got out of his lap and discarded my jeans and briefs somewhere on the floor. I did the same to my shirt and crawled back to his lap, feeling his hands on my waist.

"Hm... Take it out, Hank." I moaned, impatient. I was rock hard and I wasn't gonna wait any longer.

"Your wish is my command." He said and kissed me again while undoing his pants as well.

I helped him with that and when I wrapped my hand around his cock I felt my own throb. He was nothing like I've taken before. He was large and I wanted every inch of that inside me. I smirked and rubbed the tip against my hole, before moving my hips downwards, impaling myself in it. I resisted the temptation to close my eyes and enjoy, choosing to just enjoy the feeling and use my open eyes to observe Hank's reactions. He had his head back, his eyes shut, his teeth biting down on his lip.

"Ah, fuck, Connor... You can't just do that..."

I took a deep breath and let myself sink further down his cock, feeling it tear me up inside. It hurt, hurt really bad, but I liked it that way. I brought a hand up to his face and caressed it, before kissing him again. He opened his mouth and his tongue met mine in the middle, twisting violently against one another. We were hungry and desperate and no amount of speed seemed to assuage any of it.

I felt like an animal in heat, riding him as if tomorrow didn't exist or didn't matter. In fact, Hank was all that mattered then. I wanted him and I wanted him all. I had him all in me, but something was missing. I would take that from him too.

"Hank... Cum in me, please... Fill me all up, I need it so much..."

His thrusts became erratic.

"I wouldn't... fucking have it... any other way, sweetheart." I heard him whisper in my ear, his hot breath caressing my earlobe and sending me over the edge. I arched my back and let go, cumming like I'd never done before. My eyes opened wide and I let out a scream, not really caring about anything in the world. I felt him cum in me too, though a little bit tamer, grunting and letting out my name in a whisper.

That was all I ever wanted to hear for the rest of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! We finally got some.   
> I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. I also apologize for having no idea of how many more chapters this is actually gonna be and for having no idea where this is going.   
> I just hope I have the next one ready in a week for you.  
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


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